


Survivor

by wolfdog23



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Clonecest, Dred Priest is a Bastard, Fox fights like Black Widow, Good Parent Jango Fett, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Not Fully Human Clones, Pre-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Sparring, Throat Injury, gratuitous use of mando'a
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfdog23/pseuds/wolfdog23
Summary: I suck at summaries, so here's an excerpt instead;“Osik… Neyo’s against Fox this time,” Gree mutters, looking over at his slightly-estranged batchmate with pity.Saidvodjust glares right back at him, even as Bacara gives him a hearty clasp on the back. “No one deserves to have theirshebsbeaten by that lil’ whelp, but I’m glad it’s you and not me today, Ne’tat,” The Marine tells him, his face blank though there's a hint of a mischievous grin at the corners of his eyes.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/CC-3636 | Wolffe
Comments: 29
Kudos: 175
Collections: Commander Fox, SquadEdee





	1. The Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer; I do not own Star Wars nor any of its characters. I only have the rights to my idea and OCs - if I’m using someone else’s OCs, or ideas, I will do my damnedest to give them the credit they are due; the title comes from the cover-song Survivor, by 2WEI ( _original song by Destiny’s Child_ ), but isn’t inspired by it -not completely, at least, tho it does fit, now that I’m thinking about it 
> 
> This is my first Star Wars story -that I'm sharing, at least; let's keep the comments polite, alright?
> 
> *=Mando’a; meanings at the end; gratuitous use of Mando’a, BTW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not meant to be from Doom’s general POV, but I guess he wanted center stage cuz that’s just how it ended up going; also, characters might seem OOC, but we literally know squat about most of them so whatever

“ _Osik_ *1… Neyo’s against Fox this time,” Gree mutters, looking over at his slightly-estranged batchmate with pity. 

Said _vod_ *2 just glares right back at him, even as Bacara gives him a hearty clasp on the back. “No one deserves to have their _shebs_ *3 beaten by that lil’ whelp, but I’m glad it’s you and not me today, Ne _’tat_ *4,” The Marine tells him, his face blank though there's a hint of a mischievous grin at the corners of his eyes. 

“Hey, at least Priest doesn’t bother watching these training sessions,” Doom points out, stretching his shoulders as he watches Stone talk with the little whelp in question. Despite them being clones of Jango Fett -meaning they _should_ all be carbon copies, at least physically- there's something about that younger CC that just screams… different.

Not in the way most of the _Vode_ *5 have non-Human traits like sharp teeth and claw-like nails, or even the cosmetic mutations like hair or eye color. No, there's something about Fox that's… Doom's hesitant to say _delicate_ , because Fox is definitely not that, but there's a… there are subtle differences between the _Shebse_ Squad’s youngest and the rest of the _Vode_. A slight narrowness to his shoulders, a noticeable width to his hips that makes them sway slightly when he walks. 

If Doom and his Squad share physical traits similar to the Alpha-class of _Vode_ , then Fox is on the other end of the spectrum. 

Neyo just grunts his agreement, pulling Doom back from staring at his batchmate’s opponent’s rear -he can admit, at least to himself, that it's a lovely _shebs_ ; it's just full enough that it’d likely fill his hands nicely…

“Lookin’ a little horny there, Doom,” Gree teases flatly, seeing where the younger’s eyes had been locked -it's a bit of an open secret amongst the _Vode_ that, out of all of them, Fox has the best _shebs_ and thighs. Even those with zero interest in sex, like Gree, can agree on that.

“ _Shab_ *6 yourself, Gree,” Doom shoots back just as flatly, making Bacara scoff -though there's a fondness for the youngest two of their batch in his whisky-brown eyes. “so, what’s the order for sparring?” He asks, forcing his own burnished-gold eyes away from Fox’s _shebs_ when the younger _vod_ glances over at them. 

Gree rolls his eyes and hands over the flimsi list he’d probably filched from one of the trainers -sneaky little bastard. 

Doom takes it and snorts at what he sees. “ _Ka’ra_ *7, they’re testing the Top 10 first today… looks like the _kaminiise_ *8 are hoping to shake up the listing or something,”

“Shocker, that,” Neyo grumbles bitterly, rolling his shoulder -which Priest had dislocated and forced roughly back into socket the other day, so it's still sore and bruised- as Bacara takes the list from Doom and looks it over, an exhausted sneer on his face when he sees that he's fighting Havoc. Havoc, at least, has a tendency to be predictable when he spars with them; the _vod_ isn't quite as ‘Alpha’ like as most of _Chekar_ *9 Squad, but he knows how to throw what weight he has to him around, which is how he’s kept his spot as number one thus far.

Fox, on the other hand, is the unpredictable kind of little _osik_ who uses his borderline-unnatural flexibility and slighter figure to his advantage. Little whelp is fast and has the agility that he can just… wrap himself around you like a serpent before throwing you aside. 

It's a turn on to watch, but it majorly bruises the ego every time it happens to you. Especially since it's always a shock, regardless of how often you fight him. The little whelp could probably hold the number one spot, if he wanted that kind of attention on him. 

It's a _haar’chak_ *10 miracle that Priest hasn’t seemed to notice Fox yet, honestly. 

Doom sighs, rubbing a hand down his face as he watches _Kote_ *11 and Thorn get ready in the pit, the two apparently having decided they're going to get their spar out of the way. Not that Doom blames either of them; these monthly spars against each other are literally just so the trainers and _kaminiise_ can pick out what needs further improvement, or -for the long-necks especially- weed out flaws and imperfections that can be ‘corrected’. 

It's an exhausting mix of disgusting and horrible, but then again, so is pretty much everything about the _Vode_ and how they were raised and trained. At least it allows the CC squads to mingle without the trainers watching them with suspicion.

“Kote’s form’s better, but I think Thorn’s got the advantage this time,” Bacara drawls, leaning against the railing that barriers the catwalks around the sparring pit, which is a full story down. 

Doom looks down at the two sparring and rolls his eyes when he sees what Bacara means; there's a slight stiffness to Kote’s form that hints at a healing injury. Like the older _vod_ said, Kote’s form is better, but Thorn doesn't seem like he has his own injury to deal with -not that that's really decisive in these _shabla_ 12 sparring matches. If you can't work through an injury, the _kaminiise_ take note of it, so you push yourself until you can fight through any injury that isn't killing you. 

“Kote’s still gonna win, though,” Doom drawls right back, leaning against the wall behind him with Neyo. “what’d you think, Ne _’ika_ *13?” He asks, smirking a bit cruelly when the older sneers at him for the childish nickname. 

That look promises retribution later; it's worth it, if you ask Doom, since it means that Neyo stops acting like the flesh-droid Priest has tried to turn him into -for a little while, at least.

“Kote’s gonna win; a wrenched hip ain’t gonna slow him down that much,” Neyo mutters, honey-brown eyes flat and bored as they watch Kote flip Thorn over his shoulder and slam him into the floor, a forearm pressing against Thorn’s throat and a knee against his crotch. “he’s gonna be aching for a while, though -the way he twists his hips when he flipped Thorn is gonna set his recovery back by at least a week.”

Gree huffs his agreement, leaning against the railing with Bacara as Stone finally rejoins them, the frown lines already marring his face deepened as he leans against the wall by Doom. 

“I don’t like that look,” Gree mutters, mouth barely moving as he keeps his eyes locked on the way Kote helps Thorn up -the two chatting in low voices as they leave the pit. Neyo pushes off the wall and walks over to where Fox is standing with Wolffe, the two talking in a low tone before heading down to the pit themselves.

“ _Shab_ ,” Stone hisses, the sound a touch feral as his eyes follow their batchmate and Fox. “hopefully Fox _’ika_ lets him know that Priest is in observation,”

“ _Me’ven_ *14?!” Bacara hisses back, the only outward sign of his distress being the way his back tightens like coils. “That _demagolka_ *15 never watches these scrimmages -none of the specialty trainers do.”

“Well, they are today,” Stone murmurs back, lips barely moving though they all hear him as if he’s shouting. “JMP*A and Prime are up there, too, according to Fox _’ika_.”

Bacara lets out a rumbling growl at the mention of his own ‘mentor’, allowing Gree to roughly knock their shoulders together for a moment before the younger signs at Jet and Trauma to warn their squads. 

“How’d the little whelp find out, anyways?” Doom asks, moving so he's bracketing in Bacara’s other side, giving the second oldest of their Squad a sardonic smirk -eyes sympathetic. 

The JMPs aren't as bad as _Kyr'tsad_ *16, but it's definitely close. Their styles of training are as different as they are the same, and both can be described only as torture. 

“Vents,” Stone mutters, sounding impossibly fond of the little whelp, before snorting in his throat. “little whelp’s hips almost got stuck, apparently, but he still fits in them.”

“His hips are that much bigger than his shoulders?” Gree asks, smirking when he sees the way Doom shifts his legs subtly -the pants of his fatigues feeling a little tight at the mental image of Fox and his _shebs_ getting stuck in the vents.

Stone hums his affirmation as he joins the trio in leaning against the railing, watching Fox’s squad talk from the corner of his ebony eyes. “It’s only really noticeable when he’s standing by another _vod_ , though I guess his fatigues had to be adjusted in both areas -he’s a lil’ shorter, too.”

“One mutation on top of another for that one, huh?” Doom rumbles, a cringe twitching across his face when Fox slips out of Neyo’s grapple. “Little whelp’s quick,” He mutters, seeing the frustration in Neyo’s eyes -even from his distance- before flicking his eyes up to the observation deck. 

“Why’d ya think I avoid fightin’ the whelp when I can help it?” Bacara murmurs, sneering in sympathy when Fox flips around and locks his thighs around Neyo’s neck -throwing his weight back in a flip that has him entering a handstand and slamming Neyo face-first into the floor. “Ouch,”

“You ever actually fight Fox, ‘Cara?” Gree asks, rubbing at his sternum from vicarious pains as Neyo throws his weight into a roll that sends him to his feet -nose leaking a trickle of blood. 

“One ‘er two times,” Bacara drawls, that Concordian accent lazing out as he stretches his shoulders without really moving. “the whelp could definitely take out Havoc if he really wanted to,” He adds, sneer deepening when Neyo makes a sloppy lunge that means he's getting anxious. Priest must have been making threats again, if Neyo's getting twitchy and sloppy in a routine spar. 

“Lucky for Havoc, Fox has no interest in dealing with ARC-whelps constantly,” Gree teases flatly, cringing when Fox spins onto Neyo’s shoulders, thighs back around his neck, and throws his weight downward, keeping Neyo in a headscissor that has the older _vod_ audibly wheezing and tapping out. “ _shab_ , he’s vicious,”

“He’s sexy, but you don’t have a sex drive so it’s understandable where your confusion’s coming from,” Doom murmurs, snickering when Stone shoves him roughly for that comment. Gree -having long accepted his asexuality- just shrugs and flips him the bird lazily. Doom’s attention is drawn back to the pit, though, when the older’s eyes darken suddenly -a sneer finding its way onto his own face when he sees that Priest has, covertly, made his way down there.

The _demagolka_ is standing near the door, mostly hidden in the shadows, but the fury on his face is blatant as he watches Fox chuckle and let Neyo up -the two talking too lowly for any of them to hear up on the catwalks.

“Oh _nayc_ *17,” Stone mutters, body tensing as an audible growl sounds from Wolffe -the younger _vod_ standing several feet from them. All other chatter silences from the CCs around the catwalks, various shades of brown or gold eyes darkening as they watch Neyo suddenly pause in wiping his bloody nose on his shoulder -eyes widened slightly and whatever he's saying to Fox trailing off as he catches sight of his torturer. 

“ _Osik_ ,” Bacara hisses, watching as his closest _vod_ suddenly blanks out and falls into a stiff parade rest -Fox tense beside him as Priest walks over to them. “can anyone hear what they’re saying?” He asks, leaning forward a little more as he squints at Priest’s mouth -trying to read his lips.

“Can’t hear _osik_ up here, _ori’vod_ *18,” Doom mutters, sneering as he sees Neyo suppress an obvious flinch at whatever Priest says, Fox visibly fighting back a snarl as he stands in a looser -but otherwise flawless- parade rest. Eyes flicking up to the observation deck, his brows furrows when he sees that only the JMPs and _kaminiise_ are up there. “where’d Prime go?”

“Standing with Jet’s squad -looks like he doesn’t trust whatever Priest’s aiming for, either,” Stone mutters, leading them all to glancing over at where _Edee_ *19 Squad is standing, Jango leaning against the wall and muttering with Grey while Thire talks with Thorn and Hound. 

Doom grunts his agreement; none of them trust Priest as far as they can throw him, but the way he's talking almost solely with Fox… no, not _with_ Fox, _at_ Fox… and with how horrified Neyo’s eyes are…

“ _Demagolka_ better leave the whelp alone,” Bacara growls, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling when Priest dismisses Neyo with a sharp motion -the _vod_ flinching back from it, even as he rests a quick hand on Fox’s shoulder before tucking tail and powerwalking up the steps. “ _shab_ ,”

“ _Dar'jate_ *20,” Doom mutters, watching as Fox’s squad tense as one -Wolffe looking a touch feral around the eyes as he grips the railing like a lifeline. He thought he’d heard a rumor that those two were experimenting with each other, and it looks like that rumor might actually be true. It isn’t uncommon, after all, for _Vode_ to experiment with each other and sex -the trouble is keeping feelings from developing, if only to avoid further pain from a lover dying because of a training incident or the long-necks trying to cull out the weak links.

Feelings, though, are a hard thing to fight against. And it looks like Fox and Wolffe’s bond runs a lot deeper than just batchmates or _vode_ , even if it's still in the early stages of a relationship . 

No wonder the feral _vod_ looks ready to dig his fang-like teeth into Priest’s throat, especially when the old man shakes out his limbs and falls into a casual fighting stance. 

“ _Shabuir_ *21,” Doom growls, shoulders tense as he watches Fox hesitate for only a moment, the younger _vod_ obviously aware of Priest’s reputation -hard not to be, really- and rightfully nervous about having to fight him. Still, that hesitation only lasts a moment, before he rolls his shoulders and falls into a slightly stiffer fighting stance -a snarl appearing on his face at whatever Priest says. “ _ibic_ *22 _dar'jate_.”

“Ya think?” Stone hisses, straightening up when Neyo joins them. “ _Me'bana_ 23?” He asks, jostling Neyo until the _vod_ is standing between Doom and him. 

“Priest’s being more of a creep than usual -made a comment about Fox ‘fighting like a woman,’ ‘nd that he’s only ranked as high as he is cuz most of us’ve never fought a woman before,” Neyo mutters, still tense as Doom and Stone press their shoulders against his -Bacara reaching around to clasp the back of Neyo’s neck in his rough, affectionate way. 

“ _Dar'jate_ ,” Gree mutters, a snarling-hiss echoing out of his throat when Fox feints a grapple for Priest’s neck, only to go for the legs and try to kick them out from under the old man. Priest, though, just jumps slightly before aiming a punch down at Fox’s chest. “lil’ whelp’s lucky he’s so fast,” He wheezes, breathing out with relief when Fox rolls out of the way of that punch -it likely would have snapped his sternum in half. 

Neyo grunts absently, flinching when Fox leans back with a punch that lands against his cheek -moving with the blow so it does minimal damage. “Let’s hope he keeps that speed going… Priest’s aiming to make a point… I just don’t know what.”

“ _Shab_ … I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Stone mutters, pressing more firmly against his _vod’ika_ ’s*24 shoulder as Fox uses Priest’s own momentum to get a lock on his arm and twist it, ducking when the _Kyr’tsad_ punches at him before hooking his leg around one of the _vod_ ’s to unbalance him. Again, Fox leans with the motion, nearly falling into the splits as he twists Priest’s arm and yanks -pulling him over his shoulder to slam him against the ground, the claw-like nails of one hand digging into Priest’s throat to keep him pinned. 

It only lasts a second, though, before Priest suddenly throws his weight forward and pins Fox under his full weight -a high-pitched keen wheezing out from the younger _vod_ as Priest digs his forearm into Fox’s throat. 

“ _Shab_ , he almost had him, too,” Doom mutters, one hand coming up to rub at his own throat in sympathy, before he realizes that Neyo's still way too tense beside him. “ _ori’vod_?” He mutters, side-eyeing Neyo and frowning at how pale the older _vod_ is. 

“He’s not done yet,” Neyo mutters ominously, sending a shiver down Doom’s spine while Stone growls something in jumbled Mando’a under his breath. “he still has a point to make… and he’s not gonna go easy on Fox, either.”

“ _Osik_ ,” Bacara growls, giving a full body wiggle as a shiver goes down his own spine. “Prime’s looking worried,” He tells them, seeing the way Jango's moved to lean against the railing of the catwalk -his brown eyes nearly black from here, and body tense like he's expecting to have to jump into the pit and intervene.

“He can’t do anything unless Priest goes too far,” Neyo mutters, still looking a sickly shade of pale, muscles coiled and nearly vibrating under his red fatigues. “only thing Priest’s _good_ at is toeing the line that Prime set all the trainers -Prime watches _Kyr’tsad_ like a _jai’galaar_ *25, s’they know just how far they can go without Prime interfering with how they do things,”

Out of all of them, Neyo would be the unfortunate one to know that best. 

_Shab_.

“What’s he got planned, Ne _’tat_?” Bacara asks, looking as tense as Jango does in that moment.

Most of the CCs look just as tense, while Wolffe is nearly foaming at the mouth as he glares down at the _Kyr’tsad_ with pure loathing, watching as Priest finally lets Fox up and falls back into a starting pose -looking cocky while Fox has a terrifyingly calculating look in his bright amber-gold eyes. 

“I don’t know… just that it’s not going to be good.” Neyo whispers, allowing Stone and Doom to press in on his sides more, the whole cadre watching the way Priest lunges with all his weight at the smaller Fox -the younger _vod_ rolling out of the way and nearly gliding back to his feet. There's a look on his face -as he keeps his hands clawed in front of him, keeps his limbs loose and ready to move at a moment’s notice, keeps most of his weight on his back leg to twist out of the way if need be- that screams warning; that screams calculating. 

Little whelp's planning something, Doom can tell -fear sitting heavy like a rock in his gut. Something that's going to be impressive, for sure… but has the potential to fuel Priest’s rage at him, too. 

Priest lunges again, the movement purposely obvious and sloppy, though Fox doesn't take the opening that's been given. The little whelp's too smart for something like that; instead, he spins and kicks out -allowing Priest to pull him when the old man grabs his ankle and yanks roughly. 

“Whelp sure knows how to let his body move to avoid more damage, I’ll giv'em that much,” Bacara mutters, holding his chin in thought as Fox uses the momentum to twist his flexible body around Priest’s to get the man’s head between his knees, feet tucked back under Priest’s armpits as he throws his weight backwards into a handstand -using Priest’s nanosecond of surprise to throw him with his legs. “ _haar’chak_ , whelp’s got balls, taking that risk.”

“The risk being; using a move that Priest had seen him use against Neyo?” Gree asks, eyes narrowing at the way Fox is still crouching, breathing heavy as he watches Priest wearily. And with good reason; the _Kyr’tsad_ is chuckling, wiping the blood that's gushing from his nose as he says something to Fox that none of them can hear. 

Whatever it is, though, has Fox looking a pale cross between nauseous and enraged. 

The whelp’s squad is still tense, as well; Kote and Ponds keeping Wolffe grounded while Bly is murmuring with… is that Thire? Regulation cut doesn't narrow it down that much, but the deep lines that frowning has already etched into his face… it's either Thire or Faie. 

Doom can't tell, but they both look far grimmer than he's comfortable with. “Anything else we should be concerned about, Ne _’ika_?” He asks, voice low so only his batchmates can hear him -Neyo tensing to snap about the nickname before he forces himself to relax again.

“… He’s… we-well,” Neyo stutters, the corners of his mouth pulled back into a grimace as they watch Fox stand up smoothly, no action wasted and yet the whelp almost makes it seem sensual -completely unintentionally, very likely. He just seems to flow when he moves, getting his weight on the balls of his feet and rolling his shoulders slightly. “… when, when I say he’s a creep… I don’t just mean cuz he’s _Kyr’tsad_ , _vod_ ,” He mutters, something like shame in his eyes as he curls in on himself without actually moving. 

“Oh, _Neyo_ ,” Stone sighs, sounding pained as he wraps an arm around the younger’s waist, though his nearly-black eyes stay on the way Priest is practically stalking around Fox -the whelp only moving his head just enough to keep the old man in his sights. 

Neyo just grunts, biting his tongue against some sort of retort -likely something about pity- as he accepts the comfort that his _ori’vod_ is giving. 

Doom says nothing, rage boiling in his chest, as he leans his temple against Neyo’s shoulder, eyes burning as they trail after the _demagolka_ Fox is being cornered by. “He’s gettin’ ready to act on somethin’… can’t tell what… but that look in his eyes,” Doom mutters, relaxing minutely under the heavy weight of Bacara’s arm across his shoulders as he holds Neyo’s nape firmly. 

“It’s not gonna be good, either,” Gree agrees, standing up so that he can cross his arms over his chest, a low growl still rumbling in his throat. 

Actually, if Doom pays close enough attention -to more than the way Priest is edging ever so closer to a still motionless Fox- he notices that nearly every CC is rumbling out a low growl. It's just how they are, regardless of what the _kaminiise_ try; something in their ancestry makes the _Vode_ pack-oriented beings, especially the CCs -despite how dangerous a mindset it is. 

Movement in the pit catches his attention again, eyes refocusing on the way Priest suddenly feints and then lunges at Fox -the younger _vod_ ducking and twisting away from the old man’s reach before kicking out, aiming for Priest’s solar plexus. The old man grabs Fox’s ankle and twists -Fox turning with the motion to avoid damage to his leg and hip, planting his hands on the floor so that he can push up and kick with his opposite foot at Priest’s face.

Neyo cringes when the kick catches the side of Priest’s jaw, allowing Fox to pull his other leg free so he can handspring back onto his feet -movements still fluid, though he's panting slightly, a sneer on his face as he keeps his eyes on Priest’s furious ones. “Oh _nayc_ … now he’s pissed,”

“He wasn’t before?” Doom mutters, tense as he watches Priest roll his jaw and massage where he’d been clipped, blue eyes like icy flames as he spits something at Fox -likely vulgar, if the way Fox’s shoulders tense is any indication. 

“He _was_ … but that bastard has _levels_ of how pissed he is… and he’s _really_ pissed now,” Neyo mutters, nearing rigor mortis levels of stiffness as Priest starts stalking towards Fox again -something inanely cruel on the old man’s face as he slowly circles the younger _vod_ again. “he’s like a nexu when he gets like this… he likes to _play_ with his prey before he goes in for the kill,”

“I’m really hoping you’re speaking metaphorically right now, Ne _’ika_ ,” Gree hisses, watching as Fox suddenly twists and lunges at Priest, grabbing one of the arms the old man holds out to try and grab the _vod_ before throwing his weight into an armband hold -one foot catching Priest’s chin as they fall to the floor, Fox trying like _haran_ *26 to dislocate the arm he's holding. 

“So am I,” Neyo whispers, watching as Priest snarls and twists so that he's laying on top of Fox -wrenching his own arm out of socket as he makes a grab for Fox’s throat.

No… not a grab, Doom realizes with mounting horror, watching as Fox lets go of the arm he's holding to grab at his own throat -a primal sort of fear on the younger _vod_ ’s face as he pales and does limp. 

It takes a second for the blood to become obvious -Jango having already jumped the railing so that he can rush to Fox’s side before it fully registers that Priest's just cut the _vod_ ’s throat. Wolffe roars with rage by the time any of them are moving -Stone already down and rushing Priest with Trauma, while Blitz and Havoc block the _demagolka_ ’s escape routes, by the time Doom and Bacara jump down as well. 

“Help Stone and Trauma secure Priest,” Bacara orders, grabbing Wolffe when the younger _vod_ lands beside them and pinning him to the floor face first. “Hold, Wolf _’tat_ -your panicking isn’t going to help Fox or Prime right now,” He rumbles, locking the feral _vod_ ’s wrists against his back when he tries to rip his claws into the older. “Someone go get a medic! **Now**!” The Marine roars, while Doom snarls at the vibro-shiv Priest had used against Fox… that means the cut's going to be big and _deep_ , _shabla demagolka_. 

Doom tries to ignore the blood creeping away from Fox’s throat across the floor; forces himself to focus on the way Priest just took a swipe at Stone -cutting the hard-faced _vod_ on the arm while Trauma hammer kicks the old man from the opposite side and Kote slams into Priest from behind, locking an arm around his throat and putting pressure on his dislocated shoulder. 

“If the _kaminiise_ weren’t watching right now, that shiv would be in **your** throat,” Kote growls, a vein pulsing in his left temple as Doom kicks the shiv out of the _demagolka_ ’s hand -Stone securing that arm so he can check for any other weapons while Trauma secures the old man’s legs. “Fox dies you die, got that?”

“You’re being too nice again, Kote,” Stone drawls, sharp teeth bared when Priest tries slamming his head back against Kote’s nose. “ _demagolka_ already signed his own death certificate… we’ll be hunting the rest of you _hut'uune_ *27 down before long,” The older _vod_ hisses, snapping Priest’s arm when he spits at him. 

“We’ll make sure it hurts, too,” Doom growls, picking the shiv up and flipping it in his hand, looking it over as he hears the medics run in -Jango whispering in soothing, nearly inaudible Mando’a to Fox as the _vod’ika_ gurgles and chokes on his own blood. 

“Come on, _ad’ika_ *28, _k’oyacyi_ *29… _k’oyacyi_ , Fox _’ika_ ,” Jango murmurs, one large hand covering both of Fox’s to try and keep him from bleeding out -amber-gold eyes dulling as Fox struggles to look up at him, the puddle of blood just continuing to grow around him. 

It's even odds if Fox will die from blood loss or drowning in his own _shabla_ blood, if the _shabla_ medics can’t get him in bacta in time. Doom watches, somewhat detached, as one of the medics -two growth cycles younger, slightly-longer-than-regulation curly hair pulled back in a small bun- whispers something to Jango, gently pulling bloody fingers away so he can see just how bad the damage is. The grimace on his young face -that nanosecond of horror in his honey-brown eyes- says more than his shout for an X-Dose bacta patch does. 

Doom looks back down at the shiv in his hand, flipping it into a reverse grip as he admires the craftsmanship of the ornate hilt, before glancing at Priest from the corner of his eyes -noticing that Neyo and the rest of Fox’s squad have joined them and are watching as the medic straddles Fox’s too still body on the gurney, keeping an even pressure on the deep neck wound as the other medics hurry them out of the pit. 

Flipping the small knife so that he's holding the blade now, Doom walks over to Neyo and holds the handle out to his _ori’vod_ -a dark look in his eyes when the older glances at it. “ _Gar’ijaat_ *30,” He tells him, eyes moving to watch as Bacara and Jet pull Wolffe up -keeping the snarling _vod_ restrained when he tries to lunge at Priest with jaws snapping -his whisky eyes nearly black with his rage. “You’ll get your chance, _vod’ika_ ,” Doom adds, only raising an eyebrow at Wolffe when the feral _vod_ snaps wordlessly at him. 

Yeah, those rumors about Fox and Wolffe are definitely true; that's the rage of a lover looking for retribution, not just a _vod_ looking for revenge.

“ _Taylir_ *31, Wolf _’tat_ , _taylir_ ,” Bacara orders, grabbing Wolffe’s nape firmly while Jango watches them, the rage of a parent burning his eyes black as he crosses his arms over his chest -ignoring the blood still soaking his hands and legs. 

“Neyo,” The Prime rumbles, an ominous tone of calm there that has even Wolffe stilling in Bacara and Jet’s hold. “ _gar’ijaat_ … _haat, ijaa, haa’it, kote_ *32, _pirunir sui’haaise_ *33, _ad’ika_.” He tells him, chin raised in challenge, as if to say, ‘ _can you do it?_ ’. 

Neyo’s jaw clenches at the challenge, fingers closing around the hilt of the shiv Doom's still holding out to him -Fox’s blood still on it. “ _Par_ *34 Fox,” He growls out, the feral sound rolling in his throat as he skulks over to stand before his torturer -Trauma moving so that he's holding Priest’s dislocated arm, Stone still holding the now-broken one, while Kote kicks his knees in so that the old man falls onto them before the _vod_ he’s spent the last several years tormenting and trying to mold into a flesh-droid weapon. “ _Jiila kyr’am ori’shya jate_ *35,” Neyo hisses, a vicious grin twisting his branded face as he grabs the short hair on Priest’s head and yanks his head back, teasing the off vibro-blade over his throat -from under one ear to under the other. 

“Don’t kill him yet, Neyo,” Jango drawls, a vicious look in his eyes -in each of his _eyayahe_ ’s*36 eyes- as he raises a hand to the _kaminiise_ and JMPs still up in observation. “just maim him a little… I think the final blow belongs to Wolf _’ika_ , don’t you?” He purrs darkly, smirking ferally when the nearly-rabid _vod_ growls loudly. 

“ _Elek_ *37, _buir_ *38,” Neyo rumbles, claw-like nails biting into Priest’s scalp as he teases the blade higher, over Priest’s stubbly jaw and cheek before dragging it under one eye lazily. “What do you think, Priest… your eye… your tongue… maybe I should go for your throat, keep it just deep enough to hurt -shallow enough you won’t drown on your own blood, shallow enough you won’t suffocate to death… _gaanader_ *39, _demagolka_ …” He purrs darkly, sadistic glee in his eyes when Priest shudders and tries to wrench his head back from the blade under his eyes. “Throat it is…” He hisses, flipping on the small switch so that the sharp blade is vibrating and rips into the weathered flesh under it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Used;  
> 1) Osik; dung (impolite), shit  
> 2) Vod; sibling (gender neutral)  
> 3) Shebs; backside, rear, buttocks (also rear of building etc), ass  
> *Shebse is the plural form; it’s also the CC Cadet Squad consisting of Kote/Cody, Ponds, Wolffe, Bly, and Fox (with Rex being their honorary batchmate)  
> 4) ‘Tat; Concordian version of vod/’ika  
> 5) Vode; siblings (gender neutral), how the Clones refer to themselves as a Whole  
> 6) Shab; ‘scew’ - impolite (I’m guessing this means ‘fuck’ or something similar)  
> 7) Ka’ra; Stars - ancient Mandalorian myth - ruling council of fallen kings  
> 8) Kaminii(e); Kaminoan(s)  
> 9) Chekar; stab (with a small blade) - *shiv*  
> *CC Cadet Squad consisting of Stone, Bacara, Neyo, Gree, and Doom  
> 10) Haar’chak; damn (it)  
> 11) Kote; glory, it’s also Cody’s original name  
> 12) Shabla; ‘screwed up/screwing’ - impolite (maybe fucked/fucking? Tenses are a little confusing)  
> 13) ‘Ika; diminutive suffix written as 'ika - also added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form  
> 14) Me’ven; What?!  
> 15) Demagolka; someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche  
> 16) Kyr’tsad; Death Watch (lit. Death Society) - breakaway Mandalorian sect  
> 17) Nayc; No (negative answer)  
> 18) Ori’vod; older sibling (gender neutral)  
> 19) Edee; jaws, teeth  
> *CC Cadet Squad consisting of Jet, Grey, Keller, Havoc, and Thire  
> 20) Dar’jate; ‘not good’ (I made this one up, but it kinda makes sense?)  
> 21) Shabuir; extreme insult - *jerk*, but much stronger (pretty sure this is the Mando’a version of ‘motherfucker’ or bastard)  
> 22) Ibic; this  
> 23) Me’bana; what’s happening? What happened?  
> 24) Vod’ika; younger sibling (gender neutral)  
> 25) Jai’galaar; shriek-hawk  
> 26) Haran; Hell - literally, destruction, cosmic annihilation  
> 27) Hut'uune; cowards (worst possible insult)  
> 28) Ad’ika; child, of any age - also used informally to adults much like *lads* or *guys*  
> 29) K’oyacyi; multiple meanings, but used here as an order ‘stay alive’  
> 30) Gar’ijaat; ‘the honor’s yours’, (lit. your honor; I’m made this one up)  
> 31) Taylir; Hold, Keep, Preserve  
> 32) Haat, ijaa, haa’it, kote; Truth, Honor, Vision, Glory  
> 33) Pirunir sui’haaise; make their eyes water (slang for kill, injure or defeat)  
> 34) Par; For  
> 35) Jiila kyr’am ori’shya jate; ‘instant death is too good’ (I kinda chopped this one together)  
> 36) Eyayahe; echoes  
> 37) Elek; yes  
> 38) Buir; parent (gender neutral)  
> 39) Gaanader; choose
> 
> Additional;  
> *A; JMP is what the _Vode_ refer to the Journeyman Protectors as
> 
> The CC Cadet Squad names come from Project0506’s Soft Wars series; I just switched up who was in what squad
> 
> For the life of me, I can’t remember where I read about Fox having a large slit-scar on his throat, but I loved the idea (as morbid as it is) and decided to use it
> 
> This… got a lot darker towards the end than I was expecting it to. I mean, it was supposed to be dark to begin with -since Fox’s throat being cut was literally the whole point of this story- but… his _ori’vode_ all wanted a shot at Priest, I guess…
> 
> I might add a second chapter, if anyone actually wants me to
> 
> EDIT; A second (plus 3rd, 4th, and 5th -and maybe even a bonus chapter) is in the works, but... Words Are Hard, and they don't want to flow how I want them to, so it _will_ be a generous minute until chap 2 is up, BUT! I AM working on one


	2. The Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still suck at summaries; here's another excerpt 
> 
> He doesn’t care what they think, at this point; after everything they’ve put the _Vode_ through, they’re lucky that Jango hasn’t encouraged his _eyayahe_ *6 to completely rebel and overthrow the _demagolke_ altogether. They’re lucky he’s invested so much time and effort into making the clones into ‘perfect’ soldiers, that the _Vode_ already have so much discipline and loyalty to the Republic and the _Jetiise_ *7 ingrained into them, to turn them on their _demagolka_ creators. Not even his partially-forgotten revenge against the _Jetiise_ for Galidraan would be able to save the _kaminiise_ at this point, if he decided to have the _Vode_ rebel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t reply to comments because I don’t wanna skew the numbers -they make me super happy and giddy to see-, so I wanna say _Vor Entye_ to all of you for the wonderful comments. It makes me so happy to see that people like my stories
> 
> (gore warning; thank you, AMillionStarsAbove, for the idea to have Priest torn apart like the Jedi on Galidraan. Also, thank you, wyomnom, for the idea to make Fox the youngest CC -originally, he was just going to be the youngest of his Squad, but I love the idea of him being the ‘viciously competent’ baby of the CCs)
> 
> (*=Mando’a; meanings at the end; gratuitous use of Mando’a, BTW, and the edits in the last chapter are because I’ve learned a LOT more Mando’a since starting this Series -not just this story, but a whole two timelines, and I’m both excited and dreading it)

Jango watches, eyes burning with sadistic satisfaction, as Neyo adds shallow cut after shallow cut to Priest’s face -occasionally adding a deeper slit to the marks on the man’s throat that, even with all the blood making a mess, clearly spell _demagolka_ *1 in Mandalorian script. From his periphery, he sees that Bacara and Jet are still restraining Wolffe -the younger _vod_ *2 nearly rabid with his desire for revenge at this point- while the rest of the CCs have made their way down to the sparring pit. The _Vode_ *3 have essentially created a barrier in very quick order, keeping the _kaminiise_ *4 and JMPs from stopping the mutilation happening.

It’s obvious that the long-necks aren’t pleased by what’s happening, and Jango knows it’s not because one of the _Cuy’val Dar_ *5 ‘damaged’ one of the Marshal Commander candidates. No, the _kaminiise_ are more concerned about the fact that the scheduled scrimmages have been disrupted, and that the CCs have ‘turned’ on one of their trainers. Jango knows they’re really annoyed -though they don’t show it- by the fact that he’s not stopping them, and is, instead, encouraging such behavior.

He doesn’t care what they think, at this point; after everything they’ve put the _Vode_ through, they’re lucky that Jango hasn’t encouraged his _eyayahe_ *6 to completely rebel and overthrow the _demagolke_ altogether. They’re lucky he’s invested so much time and effort into making the clones into ‘perfect’ soldiers, that the _Vode_ already have so much discipline and loyalty to the Republic and the _Jetiise_ *7 ingrained into them, to turn them on their _demagolka_ creators. Not even his partially-forgotten revenge against the _Jetiise_ for Galidraan would be able to save the _kaminiise_ at this point, if he decided to have the _Vode_ rebel.

A pained, strangled whimper brings his attention back to the bloody mess that is Priest’s face and throat -there’s a concerned look on _Kote_ ’s*8 face, directed at Neyo’s manic expression, while Stone and Trauma look like they don’t know if they should stop the younger _vod_ or not. Brown eyes dropping slightly to the way Neyo is trembling slightly, Jango makes the decision for them. “Ne _’ika_ *9,” He drawls loudly, a shift going through the CCs, though -he notices proudly- they all remain alert to their surroundings. “ _udesiir_ *10, _ad’ika_ *11,” He rumbles, walking over slowly as Neyo twitches but holds still. Waving Kote, Trauma, and Stone to back off, Jango stops by Neyo’s side and sneers down at Priest’s weakened glare with pure contempt. “ _Kandosii_ *12, Ne _’ika_ ,” He mutters, clasping his hand against the _vod_ ’s nape roughly, smirking proudly when Neyo shudders and looks at him -a hint of nervousness and mania still in his honey eyes.

It’s moments like this -that uncertainty in Neyo’s eyes- that reminds Jango that, for all that his _eyayahe_ look about eighteen or nineteen, they’re still only chronologically nine years old. It’s always a sobering thought, really.

“ _Vor’e_ *13, _Buir_ *14,” Neyo mutters to him, a blotchy flush along his cheeks as he breathes in and glares down at Priest again.

“I think it’s Wolffe’s turn… don’t you?” Jango muses, keeping his hand on the back of Neyo’s neck as they back up -the younger _vod_ still snarling and nearly frothing at the mouth as he glares at Priest’s kneeling position, Bacara and Jet holding onto him still, though it looks like they’re struggling a touch. “Bacara, Jet…” He calls, holding back a twitch when he sees the way they’re straining to hold onto their _vod’ika_ *15. “ _Dar’taylir_ *16.” He tells them, vaguely aware of Priest wheezing something around the cuts in his throat.

Bacara locks eyes with him, expression carefully neutral -save for a slightly raised brow- and Jango tilts his chin slightly. The JMP-trained _vod_ grunts something to Jet that he can’t hear, before leaning down to whisper something in Wolffe’s ear. Whatever he tells his _vod’ika_ brings an almost terrifying, slightly manic light to Wolffe’s darkened whisky eyes, before he and Jet let the feral _vod_ go.

Before Jango even realizes it, Wolffe lunges and has Priest’s throat in his teeth -the older Mandalorian releasing a strangled scream as Wolffe’s claws shred his tunic like it’s flimsi and tear into his chest like it’s warm butter. Blood covers the boy like he’s just punctured a plumbing hose and didn’t move away from the spray, his red fatigues nearly blackened as he keeps his fangs buried to the gums in Priest’s rasping throat.

Jango just blinks, a touch surprised by the _vod_ ’s chosen method, before his eyes are drawn to where Appo yelps and stumbles backwards in repulsed surprise -pressed up against Faie and Fil as they sneer down at the _whole arm_ -from the shoulder joint down to the blued tips- that’s been thrown at them. It’s clearly Priest’s arm -the skin tone giving it away more than the wedding cuff around the wrist- and Jango can’t help the sadistic grin that finds its way onto his face at the sight of it.

He hasn’t seen such brutal dismemberment since _he_ tore those six _Jetiise_ apart on Galidraan. It’s as glorious as it is disgusting, and it’s clear the rest of the _Vode_ are a confused mix of hesitantly impressed, mildly horrified, and slightly disgusted. Not that that dampens the glint of vindictive glee in their eyes -especially Neyo’s- as Wolffe continues to snarl and growl around Priest’s throat, the older Mandalorian’s blue eyes rolling back and twitching as blood leaks out of his nose and the corners of his mouth. Each rasping breath he draws in is little more than a death rattle, his remaining limbs spasming occasionally as Wolffe’s jaws gradually clench tighter.

Time seems to finally catch back up with reality, all of a sudden, as Wolffe plants one blood-soaked hand on Priest’s remaining shoulder -the other reaching up to grab the _demagolka_ ’s short brown hair- before he throws his head back roughly, Priest’s throat still in his teeth as he lets the corpse drop. Jango blinks, only marginally surprised that the boy committed so fully, before his brutal grin returns, brown eyes dark with sadistic satisfaction as he watches Wolffe spit the larynx and esophagus out at Priest’s cadaver. Approaching with caution -lest those bloodied teeth turn on him- the _Mand’alor_ *17 walks over to stand beside the teenage commander, a proud hum vibrating in his throat as he sneers down at the bloody mess.

“ _Kandosii_ , Wolf _’ika_.” He rumbles, side eyeing the boy as the young man pants out residual growls -blood and drool pouring down his chin and bits of flesh obvious in his sharp teeth. When Wolffe just grunts wordlessly in acknowledgement, Jango rests a -still cautious- hand on his shoulder, uncaring about the blood soaking the boy from roots to boots. “ _Gar’kandosii_ *18, _ad’ika_.” He reaffirms, squeezing Wolffe’s shoulder until the younger looks up -no, down slightly- at him. “I want you to go clean up, though, before you go to check on Fox, _elek_ *19?”

“ _Elek_ , _Buir_.” Wolffe rumbles back, spitting out a mouthful of blood and gore at the corpse, before he leaves the pit -eyes still darkened from his rage, which has his _vode_ giving him a wide berth. Jango figures that darkness won’t be lifted until he sees, with his own eyes, that his _cyar’ika_ *20 is going to survive. Eyes darkening at the reminder of his youngest CC’s critical status, Jango glances around the _Vode_ before following after Wolffe.

“Fett,” Cort Davin -the ‘ _alor_ ’*21 of the JMPs- calls, voice tight as Jango passes him and the _kaminiise_ to head to the medical wing. The _Mand’alor_ pauses, muscles tense, as he side-eyes the human male and trio of _kaminiise_ , before turning to face them fully -aware of the way his _eyayahe_ are watching them.

“Davin,” Jango returns slowly, tone vaguely questioning as he keeps his face carefully blank. “what can I do for you?”

“What the _haran_ *22 was that?” The slightly-younger man hisses, voice lowered in an attempt to keep the _Vode_ from hearing them -as if the words aren’t essentially echoing in the sparring pit.

Eyes narrowed, a low growl rolling at the bottom of his throat, Jango crosses his arms over his chest as he raises an unimpressed brow at the blonde before him. “You’re have to be more _specific_ , _vod_.” He drawls, the hint of a growl in his tone enough to make Davin twitch as the _Vode_ nearest them echo the sound on instinct.

“I believe Sergeant Davin is referring to the fact that you allowed several clones -namely, CC-10/842, CC-5869, CC-2224, CC-8826, and CC-3636- to attack and murder Sergeant Priest.” One of the _kaminii_ -one that Jango vaguely recognizes but never bothered to learn the name of, though he recognizes them as male by the crest on their head- drones near-tonelessly. ‘Near’-toneless, as there’s that vague hint of annoyance in their voice that means they’re more than a little furious about what just happened.

Jango rolls a growl in his throat like a hum of acknowledgement -the sound making Davin sneer and twitch nervously- before lifting his chin to give the illusion that he’s looking down his nose at the scientist. “That’s what happens when the clones-” He spits the word with enough venom that the _kaminii_ twitches with annoyance and offense. “-are pushed too far.” He explains with a level of casualness he doesn’t feel, head cocking to the side slightly to watch the way his _eyayahe_ have moved closer to Priest’s corpse -bastardized battle-signs passing between several of them. They’re turned the wrong way for him to tell what they’re signing to each other, though there’s a tightness to Neyo’s back that means the _vod_ is close to snapping.

“They-”

“Have pack instincts, regardless of what _you_ try to do.” Jango finishes, growl rolling out a bit louder as he glares up at the _kaminii_. “That’s not something that can be ‘removed’ or trained out of them, and Priest pushed them too far this time, so he paid the price.” Good riddance to him, too; Mij is going to be pleased, though the _baar’ur_ *23 is going be pissed that another one of the _Vode_ was so critically injured before _anyone_ finally acted against the _Kyr’tsad_ *24 _shabuir’e_ *25.

Davin twitches again, something akin to fear in his hazel eyes, and Jango sneers, knowing the man is resisting the urge to glance back at Bacara. It’s an open secret, after all, just how similar _Kyr’tsad_ and the JMPs’ training methods are; just different enough to be noticeable, but far too similar at their cores in the way they’re both essentially torture. Sniffing his dismissal, Jango continues on his way for the medical wing -muscles tense as he hears the _kaminiise_ muttering and whispering behind him.

_+_+_

“I can’t believe he actually did it,” Bly mutters, green around the gills and a sneer on his face, as he nudges Priest’s corpse with the toe of his boot -Hound doing the same with the ex-trainer’s torn off arm. “I mean, I know he’s threatened to rip a throat out with his teeth before… but to actually see him do it…”

“Pretty _haar’chak_ *26 disgusting.” Stone drawls, squatting so he can poke around Priest’s pockets, though he’s keeping an eye on Bacara and Neyo in his periphery -Gree and Doom standing with and talking in low tones with the tense ‘middle child’ of their batch.

“Pretty revolting,” Trauma agrees, sneering as he -squatting beside Stone- pokes at Priest’s torn-out throat with a knife he _has_ to have filched from one of the other trainers. It’s just ornate enough to not be standard issue, but not so detailed that it’s former owner will recognize it right away. “how long’s he been talking about doing… this?”

Kote shrugs as he and Jet keep an eye on Prime’s jaded conversation with Davin and the _kaminiise_. “Long enough -he started sounding more serious about it when we overheard Reau say something about how Fox has ‘bearing hips’ or something.”

“ _Bearing hips_? The _shab_ *27’s that supposed to mean?” Thorn asks, fighting to keep his expression neutral at what Blackout's signing at him -the sneaky _shabuir_ having edged closer to where the _kaminiise_ are still talking, Davin blatantly watching the way the _Vode_ on the floor are still poking at Priest’s corpse -as if with an _adiik_ *28’s morbid curiosity.

“Dunno,” Bly drawls, folding his arms absently behind his back as he watches Stone pocket the comlink from Priest’s bracer, along with the access card that all the trainers carry on their persons. “just know it’s something about how wide Fox _’ika_ ’s hips are…”

“How wide are they compared to Reau’s or Tervho’s?” Thorn asks, twitching at what Blackout signs to him. “Maybe it has something to do with that?” He muses, flicking back a sign to keep an ear on the _kaminiise_.

“Bit wider, I’d say,” Bly muses back, eyes darkened when he sees what Blackout signed, sharing a look with _Kote_ before tossing his head in Hound’s direction. “ _vod_! Wanna help move this _dar’Manda_ *29 out for bait?” He calls, gaining Bacara and Neyo’s attention again.

Hound grunts his understanding as he grabs the arm around the wedding cuff -a deep sneer on his face as he walks over to them. “Disgusting,”

“At least we don’t have to eat it,” Gree jokes darkly, smirking meanly when his batchmates -sans a distracted Neyo- groan at him.

“Ya just _had_ to go there, didn’t’cha?” Bacara mutters, cuffing the younger when he plasters on a fake-innocence look. “C’mon Ne _’tat_ *30, let’s help Stone with the corpse,” He adds, giving his _vod’ika_ a small, strained smile when the younger rubs at the branded tattoo*A on his cheek absently. “You, on the other hand, get to help 99 and the others clean up the blood stains,” He tells Gree, clipping their shoulders as they pass.

“ _Shabuir_ ,” The younger grunts without heat, smiling a bit more sympathetically at Neyo -though the _vod_ isn’t meeting anyone’s eyes at the moment, likely too lost in his own braincase to really pay attention to more than orders at the moment. “he’s going to rub it raw again.” He mutters to Doom, worry evident in his voice at the way Neyo’s still rubbing at his cheek tattoo.

“I’ll let Kelly know,” Doom returns quietly, watching as the three older _vode_ of their batch carry the corpse away -Hound carrying the arm behind them- with Thorn, Trauma, and Bly following them as the others disperse. “… what’s ‘bearing hips’ mean?” He asks, having caught what Bly and Thorn were talking about a minute ago.

Gree’s brows furrow as he thinks about the question. “Something about breeding, I think?” He muses, shrugging when Doom gives him a look. “It’s probably just Reau being her creepy self, honestly, but I’m pretty sure it has something to do with a woman looking fertile…”

“Oh, so she’s just being a _shabuir_ about Fox _’ika_ ’s appearance again,” Doom deadpans, watching as Blackout follows after the three _kaminiise_ -only a few _vode_ remaining as 99 and a few other _Vode_ deemed ‘unsuitable for combat’ enter the pit with cleaning supplies. “ _shab_ … looks like I’ve volunteered myself for cleanup duty again.” He drawls, smirking tightly when Gree snorts at him. “So… think Fox’ll survive?”

“Hard to say, honestly.” Gree tells him, smile a touch fake as he helps 99 with the heavy jug of cleaner. “If they got him to the medbay in time, then the only thing standing between him and healing is whichever _kaminii_ is on duty right now.”

“ _Me’bana_ *31?” 99 asks, expressive eyes concerned as he lets the younger _vode_ help him.

Gree and Doom share a look, before the slightly-older _vod_ gives the younger a ‘go ahead’ to tell the second-to-youngest Alpha just what the _shab_ happened this time.

_+_+_

“Think the _Kaminiise_ noticed you took Priest’s comlink and access card?” Bacara asks, lighting up one of the cigarras*B he’d snatched from Davin’s stash a few rotations ago. He grimaces against the taste -mostly the strong zherry flavor, but also because his filched tin is going a little stale- before blowing the smoke out slowly, eyeing his closest _vod’ika_ worriedly.

“Possibly,” Stone muses, puffing on his own cigarra as he watches Thorn and Trauma tangle the heavy lines around Priest’s corpse -Bly hadn’t been joking about using the _demagolka_ as bait, after all. Especially since the _kaminiise_ were the ones who’d started using deceased _Vode_ as bait in the first place. “I think they’re a bit more worried about Wolf _’ika_ at the moment, though.” He adds, blowing a ring of smoke out into the constant storm. “Doubt they realized what I took, honestly.”

“Good point,” Bacara returns, still watching Neyo closely -his _vod’ika_ not even pulling a drag from his own cigarra as he stares at the swirls of smoke, his cheek brand a bit raw from how he was rubbing at it. The younger has a bit of a dead-eye look going, meaning he’s probably still in -or going into- shock over the fact that his torturer is finally dead.

They’ll have to keep an eye on him tonight.

Bly -standing on Stone’s other side- sneers and coughs when the wind blows the older’s smoke right up his nose, his eyes watering from the strength of the slightly-stale tabac. “How can you guys smoke that?”

“Ya get used to ‘em,” Bacara tells him, smirking around the stick in his mouth before -a bit meanly- blowing a big mouthful right in Bly’s face, Stone chuckling when the younger _vod_ swears vehemently at them.

“ _Shabuir_!”

“So I’ve been told,” The Marine drawls, his tone just light enough to show he's teasing. “so… what’cha got planned for that comm, _ori’vod_ *32?” He asks, redirecting the conversation back to the affects that Stone had filched -leaning back against the wall as he watches Thorn, wearing a sadistic smile, kick Priest’s corpse over the edge of the platform. A heavy thunderclap covers whatever he says to the _demagolka_ , though Trauma is blatantly cackling at whatever it is.

Stone hums in acknowledgement as he, too, watches the two in the rain. “Let’s wait until they’re back over here, first,” He drawls lowly, Bly’s eyes sharpening before widening slightly. Without even looking, Stone reaches down and plucks Neyo’s mostly burnt cigarra from his fingers -throwing the two-inch nub so that a high wave will wash it away soon. “Kamino to Neyo -you still with us, _vod’ika_?” The oldest _Vod_ present asks, glancing down to see that the younger has started absently rubbing at his cheek-branding again.

“Kelly’s gonna bitch at you if you rub it to bleeding again,” Bacara murmurers, snorting around a long drag when Neyo slugs his thigh as hard as he can. “there he is.”

“ _Shab_ yerself, ‘Cara.” Neyo mutters back, blinking a few times as he returns to the present. “Where’s my cigarra?”

“You nearly roasted your fingers again, _di’kut_ *33,” Stone explains, nodding for Bacara to give their _vod’ika_ a ‘fresh’ one -since he hadn’t even taken a drag on the other. “‘Cara’s stash is going stale, though.”

“Cuz Davin moved _his_ stash again -haven’t had a chance to find them yet.” Bacara explains, passing Neyo the junky mini-torch they all share.

“Davin made a mistake introducing you to these,” Neyo jokes flatly, a strained smirk pulling at his nearly-raw cheek as he lights his cigarra -visibly relaxing as he takes a long drag on it. “you two look like a pair of drowned womprats,” He sneers lightly, watching from where he’s sitting between his _ori’vode_ as Trauma and Thorn shake out their wet mops of hair.

“You’re look like better yourself, _vod_ ,” Thorn throws back cheekily, rolling an amused growl in his throat when Bly just looks between them like he’s missing something. Probably because the younger _vod_ ’s not used to Neyo’s post-traumatic attitude, though Thorn just cackles lightly when Neyo flips him the bird with a flat look.

“You better not waste that cig too, Ne _’tat_.” Bacara warns lightly, blowing a cloud of smoke into Trauma’s face when the older _vod_ tries to snatch his. “Ain’t happenin’.”

“ _Shebs_ *34,” Trauma returns, though he doesn’t try to take it again. “So… what’s the plan, _vode_?” He asks, making a point to shake off so he sprays Bacara as much as possible.

Stone snorts -mostly because Bly’s still looking at them like he’s confused as _shab_ \- as he takes another long drag on his cigarra. “How’s a hunt sound, _vode_?” He asks, tone light and casual as he keeps his face carefully blank.

“Oh?” Thorn muses, sadistic glee twitching at the corners of his lips as he raises a curious brow. “What _kind_ of hunt?”

“The vermin kinda hunt, Thor _’ika_.” Stone drawls, cigarra and hand hiding the smirk on his lips as he glances down at Neyo. “What says you, Ne _’ika_?”

Neyo says nothing for a moment, seemingly content to puff away of his cigarra as he thinks, before glancing up at his _vode_ through his lashes. “Kamino _does_ have a pretty nasty infestation going… and I happen to know where their nest is.” He muses, leaning his head back so he can blow a heavy lungful into the hazy air above their heads. “Bit of a bigger infestation than you’re probably thinkin’ it is, too.”

“That so,” Bacara drawls, flicking his inch-long stub away as he sees the calculating look in Bly’s honey eyes. “sounds like good practice, don’t it, Bly?”

“Sure does,” The younger Marshall Commander candidate muses absently, eyes darting back and forth a bit while Thorn and Trauma look vindictively excited. “just had a though… Vhonte’s not planet-side, is she?”

That has Neyo’s head snapping forward so he can look around Stone's legs up at the younger CC, deep-bronze skin a touch pallor at the name. “She ain’t?” He asks, tone a touch fearful at that news. He visibly shudders when Bly shakes his head, while Thorn’s eyes and grin go wide in a way that spells trouble for someone. “I say we let Prime tell her about the whelp’s injury.”

“Here, here,” Trauma agrees, even as he looks at the way Thorn is practically vibrating with cruel excitement. “that woman terrifies me.”

“She’s good at what she does, I’ll give her that.” Bacara muses, even as he snorts at Thorn’s blatant glee. “Try not to vibrate out of yer skin, _vod_.”

“Oh, _ni ceta_ *35, have you _seen_ the way that woman moves?” Thorn bites playfully, making Bly choke slightly on a snort. “More than that, have you _seen_ the way she gets when one of the _Kyr’tsad_ do something that’s just within Prime’s limits? _Especially_ Reau?” Thorn continues, getting way too excited about Jango’s second-in-command’s fiery temper. “I thought she was finally going to rip Reau’s head off with her _bare hands_ the last time she made a comment about Fox _’ika_ ’s hips a few months ago.”

“What’s with her obsession with Fox’s hips? Seriously,” Bly mutters, sniffing when Thorn waves him off -more amused than offended, given the way the older is practically gushing about potential murder.

“And _now_ , **_now_** …” Thorn breathes, fists against his cheeks as pure mania reflects in his eyes, prompting Trauma to take a semi-involuntary step away from the younger.

“Right…” Stone drawls, reluctant amusement making his lips twitch as Thorn continues muttering in low Mando’a to himself, looking way too excited about the potential nexu-fight that’ll happen whenever Vhonte returns to Kamino. “so, Ne _’ika_ … just _how big_ of an infestation are we talking here?”

Neyo -a bit reluctantly- pulls his eyes way from Thorn’s manic excitement to look up at the short jutting protecting them from the heavy downpour, taking a slow drag as he thinks numbers and confirmations. “Well… there’s an even hundred beings in the _Cuy’val Dar_ , with a clean fifteen each in the _Haat_ *36 Mandos and JMPs, and ‘bout twenty-five non-Mandos… the rest are _Kyr’tsad_ sympathizers or supporters…”

Stone balks at the percentage presented, while even Thorn looks horrified by the numbers. “ _Forty-Five_ …! That’s…” Stone swallowed while Bacara grimaced and Trauma sneered through a low growl. “I think… we should talk with the others before we make any definite plans. _Shab_ …”

“Lil’ more than half of ‘em are full-fledged _Kyr’tsad_ … maybe a handful or so of ‘em are only in that faction cuz their _riduur_ *37 is one, or cuz they’re bein’ blackmailed or somethin’,” Neyo explains absently, head leaning back against the wall as he pulls a long drag from his cigarra. “Reau’s Priest’s second-in-command, though… ‘nd she’s even more fanatic than he was… the other _Kyr’tsad_ ’ll rally behind her once it gets out that Priest’s dead.”

“Will they go after Wolffe?” Bly asks, worried for his older batchmate, given the numbers involved.

Neyo shrugs as he blows smoke rings absently, vaguely aware of Stone flicking his own stub away before his _ori’vode_ crouch to flank him. “Depends on who they hear ‘bout it through… Reau’s got a weird obsession with Fox, though…”

“ _Tion’jor_ *38?” Bly asks, head ducking forward as he scowls with confusion, a similar look on Thorn’s face. “I swear, if this is about his _hips_ again…”

“Pretty sure that’s part of it, though I dunno _why_.” Neyo explains, shrugging when Bly swears -sharp and short- under his breath. “You secure that line, Trauma?” He asks, eyes drifting down to where Priest’s corpse had been pushed off the platforms.

“ _Elek_ … _tion’jor_?” Trauma returns, eyes following Neyo’s.

Neyo just hums absently as he finishes his cigarra and flicks it away. “Just had a thought’s all…” He explains, shifting to his feet in a smooth motion, his batchmates still flanking him as he rolls his neck and shoulders. “we should probably head back in, ‘fore the _kaminiise_ come lookin’ for us.”

“ _‘Lek_ … I should go talk to Kote, anyways.” Bly agrees, waving away the hanging cloud of tabac smoke that the heavy rain’s partially trapped around them. “How can you guys stand this stink?”

“Ya get used to it, _vod’ika_.” Trauma assures him, half-smirking as they filed into the painfully white hallways -the six of them still pretty wet from the storm outside, despite having as much shelter as there is outside the hallowed halls.

“Right,” Bly drawls slowly, back tensing at the _kaminii_ passing them -the taller being squinting at them suspiciously before continuing on their way. “ _shab_ … I’m going to be jumping at shadows, now.”

“Don’t, or the _shabuir’e_ ’ll go to ground.” Neyo mutters, shaking some of the moisture out of his short-cropped hair before straightening up -subconsciously rubbing at his branded cheek again. Bacara and Stone share a look behind him. “We should find the others -it’s probably getting close to late-meal by now,”

Thorn hums his agreement as he grabs the other’s arm and pulls it away from his face -Neyo’s lack of a response showing that he’s getting lost in his braincase again. ‘Close watch,’ He signs at the other’s batchmates, before pulling Neyo along with him.

“How often does that happen?” Bly asks, concern just hidden by a neutral expression, as he watches the two leave.

“Usually only happens after a bad session with Priest… he’ll be fine tomorrow, for the most part.” Bacara explains, rubbing along his jaw as the four head in the opposite direction. “He’s usually not this bad, but it’s probably because he’s in a bit of disbelief that Priest is actually gone.”

“Thorn’s probably taking him to Kelly, to make sure he’s not going to rub the tattoo raw again.” Stone adds, hating the brand on his _vod’ika_ ’s face even more than Neyo’s resigned to it. “Anyone seen Hound?”

“He said something about checking in with the other ARFs -you and Bacara were getting Neyo situated.” Trauma explains, since the younger vod had only stuck around outside long enough to throw Priest’s arm into the ocean. “They’ve probably heard about what happened by now,”

Bly snorts quietly at that. “The rest of the _Vode_ ’ll know by midmeal tomorrow.” He muses, eyes forward as Bacara side eyes him with a growl rolling in his throat.

“Likely… but we should keep this hunt to just the CCs. Safer that way,” The other Marshal Commander candidate drawls lowly, folding his arms behind his back as the four pass another vaguely disgruntled _kaminii_ , who gives the semblance of sneering at them before they hurry away in their eerily graceful way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Used;  
> 1) Demagolka; someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche  
> 2) Vod; sibling (gender neutral)  
> 3) Vode; siblings (gender neutral), how the Clones refer to themselves as a Whole  
> 4) Kaminii(se); Kaminoan(s)  
> 5) Cuy’val Dar; those who no longer exist, a group of one-hundred individuals who were chosen by Jango Fett to train the Vode, seventy-five of whom were Mandalorian like Fett  
> 6) Eyayahe; echoes  
> 7) Jetii(se); Jedi (plural)  
> 8) Kote; glory, it’s also Cody’s original name  
> 9) ‘Ika; diminutive suffix written as 'ika - also added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form  
> 10) Udesiir; relax, take it easy, calm down, find respite (or, in this case, ‘stand down’)  
> 11) Ad’ika; child, of any age - also used informally to adults much like *lads* or *guys*  
> 12) Kandosii; nice one, wicked, well done, (can also mean indomitable, ruthless, but not here)  
> 13) Vor’e; thanks  
> 14) Buir; parent (gender neutral)  
> 15) Vod’ika; younger sibling (gender neutral)  
> 16) Dar’taylir; ‘release’ (combination of ‘dar’, which means ‘no longer, gone, temporary’ and ‘taylir’, which means ‘hold, keep, preserve’)  
> 17) Mand’alor; sole ruler  
> 18) Gar’kandosii; ‘you did good’ (bastard combination of ‘gar’, which means ‘you/your’ and kandosii -see 12)  
> 19) Elek; yes  
> 20) Cyar’ika; darling, sweetheart  
> 21) ‘Alor; leader, chief, *officer*, constable, boss (means leader, here)  
> 22) Haran; Hell - literally, destruction, cosmic annihilation  
> 23) Baar’ur; medic  
> 24) Kyr’tsad; Death Watch (lit. Death Society) - breakaway Mandalorian sect  
> 25) Shabuir; extreme insult - *jerk*, but much stronger (pretty sure this is the Mando’a version of ‘motherfucker’ or bastard)  
> 26) Haar’chak; damn (it)  
> 27) Shab; ‘scew’ - impolite (I’m guessing this means ‘fuck’ or something similar)  
> 28) Adiik; child aged 3 to 13 (I’m basically saying that kids have a morbid curiosity to them; in an unfortunate sense, this moniker is pretty accurate for the Vode, too)  
> 29) Dar’Manda; a state of not being Mandalorian - not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul - regarded with absolute dread by most traditional-minded Mando'ade  
> 30) ‘Tat; Concordian version of vod/’ika  
> 31) Me’bana; what’s happening? What happened?  
> 32) Di’kut; idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)  
> 33) Ori’vod; older sibling (gender neutral)  
> 34) Shebs; backside, rear, buttocks (also rear of building etc), ass  
> 35) Ni ceta; sorry (lit: I kneel) groveling apology - rare (I’m aware that this is the ‘rare’ form of sorry, but I use this more often than ‘N'eparavu takisit’, which means ‘sorry (lit: I eat my insult)’, because I’m lazy and don’t like having to type out the ‘casual’ sorry all the time, lol, so I’ve pretty much swapped what the two ‘sorry’s mean in my stories)  
> 36) Haat; true  
> 37) Riduur; spouse (gender neutral)  
> 38) Tion’jor; why
> 
> Other Notes;  
> A. https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/d/d1/Neyo_no_helmet.png/revision/latest?cb=20161120224619; this is the picture I’m using for Neyo’s appearance -specifically, that cheek tattoo of his (I headcanon that Neyo’s tattoo was ‘branded’ on him by either Priest or one of the Kyr’tsad bastards when the vod was 6/12-13, because he ‘wants the boy to remember what his real name is’; it’s basically psychological torture for Neyo, and he has a bad habit of rubbing it until it’s raw and bleeding when he ‘gets too lost in his own braincase’ -especially if Priest’s done something to trigger his PTSD)  
> B. https://atlanticcigar.com/cao-flavours-cherrybomb-cigarillos-tins/; dunno why I feel the need to share this kinda thing, but it’ll be a bit of a theme for me to share ‘real-world-inspirations’ for stuff, and recipes, in future fics
> 
> Other-Other;  
> • Zherry is in-universe cherry  
> • Cigarras are in-universe cigarillos  
> • Tabac is in-universe tobacco  
> • Kelly the Medic belongs to BolitheSenate, and becomes the CMO of Neyo’s Unit
> 
> I have no idea where the ‘using dead bodies for fish bait’ idea came from, but the second half of this chapter mostly wrote itself
> 
> No idea when Ch3 is going to be out at this point, I randomly got inspired to finish this chapter the other day, but hopefully I get it out before the New Year or something -I have outlines and everything (I’m a bit obsessive and a total perfectionist when it comes to my stories and the details that go into them), but, well, Words Are Hard™, so hopefully I can get on a roll so I can actually work on the actual Clone Wars plot(s) I have outlined


End file.
